


breathing in snowflakes

by bloominsummer



Category: K-pop, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Butt Plugs, Christmas Smut, Christmas Special, Established Relationship, Fluff, I can't believe this is a tag:, M/M, Porn With Plot, just a little bit of plot though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21921343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloominsummer/pseuds/bloominsummer
Summary: Soonyoung, Wonwoo, and their Christmas Eve tradition of watching movies together in a fortress of pillows and blankets.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi
Comments: 15
Kudos: 177





	breathing in snowflakes

**Author's Note:**

> ......i'm sorry?

“Welcome home,” Wonwoo calls out when the front door opens to reveal his boyfriend. 

The tips of Soonyoung's hair are white from the light snowfall outside, creating a sort of halo effect above his head. At his greeting, Soonyoung takes one look at him before he shifts his gaze to the make-shift castle formed from blankets and pillows in their now-transformed living room. A smile so beautiful, almost as bright as the decorative fairy lights Wonwoo's put up, blossoms across his face. 

“You made a fortress!” 

Wonwoo falls in love with him all over again.

“I did.” He rises from the floor to help Soonyoung with his work bag. Once close enough to the other man, Wonwoo dips his head a little to plant a kiss on Soonyoung’s cold lips, hoping his action will transfer some amount of body heat onto his boyfriend. “You wanted one.”

It's a guess, though a rather educated one. Soonyoung hadn't mentioned it explicitly this year, but Wonwoo's been doing this for him since their first Christmas Eve together and he's not about to break tradition simply because of their busy work schedules.

“I did.” Soonyoung beams at him, his eyes not leaving Wonwoo’s face even as he takes off his shoes. “Happy Christmas Eve.”

“It took longer than I expected to set this up, so I didn’t have time to cook.” Wonwoo brushes the golden bangs out of Soonyoung’s face, wanting to get a better look at the universe’s best creation. The snow melts upon contact with his skin, wetting his fingertips. “I hope fried chicken is okay?”

The answer comes in a series of adorable nods that has Wonwoo holding back his laughter. “Shower first? Food should be here in ten minutes or so.” 

“Can I have tea with my chicken?” asks Soonyoung, jutting his lips out in a pout as if Wonwoo possesses the restraint to say no to him in the first place.

“Of course.”

🎄

Soonyoung comes out of their bedroom a couple of minutes after Wonwoo sent the delivery guy away with an abundance of tips, in the spirit of the holidays. The first thing Wonwoo notices is that he’s wearing a white shirt that is definitely not his, paired with an old piece of underwear, and nothing else.

“That’s mine.” Wonwoo draws on a blank on saying anything other than that, because Soonyoung toned thighs are on full display and he’s always been rendered useless by the mere sight of them since the beginning of time.

“I know, “ Soonyoung just answers cheekily before he pads to where Wonwoo’s sitting on top of the blankets, boxes of garlic soy chicken and rice laid out on the small coffee table in front of him. 

He plops down next to Wonwoo and immediately leans his body into the younger’s, lining their legs all the way down to the ankles. Wonwoo tries not to think about the skin-on-skin contact, tries to remind himself that they’ve been together for three years, not three months, and that he has no reason whatsoever to get worked up by Soonyoung’s current state of undress. His lover is obviously tired and tonight is about spending quality time together, not satisfying his own libido.

Soonyoung wanted to have a date night, so that’s exactly what Wonwoo is going to give to him. Romance is not dead in this household, he’s determined to prove that much.

“Here,” he says, pushing Soonyoung’s bowl of rice toward him. “The tea’s still hot, be careful.”

Soonyoung nods and immediately starts stuffing his mouth full of pieces of chicken until his cheeks are all bunched up. He moans around his food, which is a bad habit, really, because Wonwoo’s dick keeps twitching in interest upon hearing the sounds he’s making.

_It’s okay_ , Wonwoo tells himself, _he’ll close his eyes soon enough and you can go to the bathroom to take care of yourself_. Looking at the tired lines on Soonyoung’s body, he’ll fall asleep before whatever movie he chooses to play later reaches its climax. 

“Sugar,” Soonyoung suddenly says. Wonwoo frowns, he’s sure he put the exact amount of sugar Soonyoung likes to have in his tea. “Good,” he says again, forming an ok sign with his hand. 

Wonwoo gives him a toothy grin. 

They finish eating in record time. Again, Soonyoung’s ability to inhale practically any food set in front of him never ceases to amaze Wonwoo. He does most of the heavy-lifting for the cleaning, which involves moving all their dining utensils into the kitchen and dumping the dirty plates into the sink, leaving the actual washing for tomorrow. When he returns to the living room, he finds Soonyoung with his lower body buried inside the mountain of blankets, presumably to keep his legs warm, while his upper half is decorated only with Wonwoo’s shirt.

Which barely hides anything. 

It’s way too big; falling off the shoulders, exposing Soonyoung’s exquisite collarbones. It’s also way too fucking thin, and Wonwoo should have gotten rid of it months ago because he can see Soonyoung’s pretty pink nipples through the fabric.

After shaking his head fervently to regain some sort of self-control, Wonwoo joins his boyfriend under the covers, slipping an arm beneath Soonyoung’s head. Wanting to get even closer, Soonyoung pillows his head on Wonwoo’s chest. He almost feels sorry whenever Soonyoung does this, since he’s perfectly aware that he’s not by any means built. It might feel nicer for Soonyoung to rest his head on someone who has a more defined pectoral. 

He tells Soonyoung as much. In return, Soonyoung reprimands him with a quiet but firm, “If you love your body, and you’re healthy, then I really don’t care, Wonu. What makes it home is that the chest’s yours, not how muscular it is.”

Wonwoo kisses him deeply for his words. He kisses him because he can, because he’s in love, because the love Soonyoung has for him is great enough to serve as a reminder to love himself. And because, their relationship is by far the most beautiful, precious thing Wonwoo’s had in his life. 

“What movie do you want to watch, baby?”

“Rise of the Guardians?” Soonyoung yawns through his reply.

Wonwoo kisses him again, on the forehead this time, and proceed to comply with his lover’s wish.

Soonyoung snuggles in close to him, one palm laid flat right above Wonwoo’s diaphragm. It’s almost as if he’s controlling Wonwoo’s every inhale and exhale, which isn’t a far cry from the truth. He tries to focus on watching the movie—he figures Soonyoung is, at least. Yet, the soft hair tickling his face doesn’t help. Soonyoung’s familiar warmth pressed flush against his side also doesn’t help. 

Wonwoo eventually settles with tracing random patterns on his boyfriend’s arm to take his mind off of it. For the most part, it seems to work. 

_Fifteen more minutes_ , he thinks, and Soonyoung will fall asleep peacefully. Then he can go and conduct his business discreetly, slip back in their bed for the night without having to make a big fuss. No harm done. Just some guy in his mid-20s jerking off to the thought of his partner who’s sleeping innocently on the other side of the door. 

Jeez. Wonwoo’s name is definitely on Santa’s naughty list for this year.

He closes his eyes and patiently waits for the moment he hears Soonyoung’s soft snores. 

Instead of snores, though, the next Soonyoung-made sound that comes into his ears is, “Are you asleep?”

“Hm?” Wonwoo pries one eye open to look down at Soonyoung and finds his boyfriend staring back at him with something akin to _want_ or _need_ painted across his lovely features. “No?”

“Okay,” answers Soonyoung, hesitant.

Soonyoung probably wants some more tea, Wonwoo thinks oh-so-innocently, because he’s a fool. Always been one when it comes to Soonyoung, he’ll admit that. 

In an attempt to coax the request out of his boyfriend, Wonwoo sits up and kisses Soonyoung’s cheek once before asking, “What’s up?”

The older takes a deep breath through his nose, and then, “I’m hard.”

Wonwoo chokes on air. 

“You’re _what_?”

Okay, that comes out as if he’s offended by the fact, which is not the case at all.

“Right,” Soonyoung says in a dejected tone. By nature, he continues on with his faster-than-the-speed-of-a-bullet rambling. “Forget about it. I’m sorry. You’re tired. Of course you are. You had a long day at work and you still made the effort to do this for me. All I have in return for you is my constant horniness. Like—I feel like I’m 18. I shouldn’t even have this _stupid_ drive.”

“Oh my God,” Wonwoo interjects, cupping Soonyoung’s face in his hands. “Are we seriously protesting the fact that you can still get it up for me after years of being together?”

Detaching himself from Wonwoo, Soonyoung frowns at him in offence. “I wake up in the morning to the sight of you drooling and I get turned on.” 

Wonwoo whistles, both surprised _and_ amused by the revelation. “Fuck, babe, that’s love.” 

“Of course it is.” The change in Soonyoung’s tone turns the atmosphere more serious. “Don’t you know?”

“I know,” answers Wonwoo easily, because he does. Soonyoung shows him every day without fail, how can he not know? 

He pulls Soonyoung closer by the arm and leans up into him, chasing his lips.

Right before he closes the distance between them, Soonyoung proclaims, “I love you,” with so much certainty that it aches Wonwoo’s heart in a good way. He realises just how lucky he is to find himself here, existing in this exact moment and space with Soonyoung. 

Their kiss starts off slow, albeit a tad more sensual than the usual lazy make-out sessions they have when they’re too worn out to do anything else. Soonyoung starts nibbling on Wonwoo’s bottom lip, playfully tugging it between his teeth when he pulls away—the way he knows would drive Wonwoo absolutely insane. 

“It’s the caffeine in the tea, isn’t it?” Wonwoo asks in between kisses, his hitched breath eliciting a happy giggle from Soonyoung. 

His lover carefully manoeuvres himself on top on Wonwoo, bare legs locking him in position. Wonwoo feels Soonyoung’s clothed dick—already half-hard—rubbing against his thigh and can’t help but let out a pathetic mewl. 

The friction’s just all too much and not enough at the same time. 

Only Soonyoung can get him like this; completely captivated by the slightest movements, the smallest sounds, the subtlest looks. 

He starts rubbing against Wonwoo shamelessly, still kissing him long and deep and _yet_ , so _slow._ The deeds he’s performing on Wonwoo’s mouth and his crotch are so contradictory, Wonwoo’s consciousness doesn’t know which mood it should attune to. Should he prepare for a slow, passionate round of love-making or some rough and fast _whoop! and roll the credits_ fuck-a-thon? He doesn’t know. It’s exciting either way, trying to figure Soonyoung out through all his contrasts. 

“Soonyoung- _ah_ ,” Wonwoo calls out in hopes to get him to settle down and choose a storyline already.

“Yep,” Soonyoung responds, but he must take Wonwoo’s vocalisation as something else entirely, because he pulls away from him and proceeds to stand up.

Which gives Wonwoo a direct view of his erection, tenting almost proudly in his shorts.

Oh, great. Fantastic. Jeon Wonwoo will be the first man to die of pent-up sexual frustration. This one’s going to be in all of the history books. They will teach this to the future generation to ward them off having sex.

“Wait here,” commands Soonyoung, pointing his index finger at Wonwoo in emphasis. He can’t move even if he _wants_ to; already his legs feel like jelly and his brain is pathetically not that much different. 

As he watches Soonyoung walk away from him and eventually disappear into their bedroom, there are beautiful butterflies flapping their wings inside his ribcage, words of praise on the tip of his tongue begging to be released, a steady chant of _love, love, love_ , in his head.

_The Soonyoung effect_ , he’s coined the term for the feeling a long time ago.

Some rummaging and a hurt _ow!_ that has Wonwoo trying to stand up (and failing) later, Soonyoung finally comes back out with his hands behind him and an angry red mark on his upper thigh where he’d presumably bumped into either their drawer or the edge of their bed.

“What are we doing tonight?” asks Wonwoo. 

He figures it’s good to at least have some sort of directions while navigating through this. Communication is key, after all.

“I’m going to ride you like the good reindeer that you are until I can’t anymore,” Soonyoung deadpans as he straddles Wonwoo once again with practised ease.

A laugh bubbles inside Wonwoo’s chest and comes out through his throat, almost making it sound like he’s choking off of his amusement. “Am I supposed to be Rudolph in this scenario?”

“No, that’s stupid,” Soonyoung shakes his head. So fricking adorable, if you ask Wonwoo. “You’re Vixen.”

He’ll take any name Soonyoung gives him, really, since he knows for sure it’ll be delivered with love. But the sight of Soonyoung looking like _this_ in front of him right now, as surreal as it is—he thinks the name better suits his boyfriend.

“If anything—” _that’s you._ The rest of the sentence dies off when Soonyoung dumps a few things on Wonwoo’s lap.

One cock ring, check. One butt plug, the non-vibrating blue one, Soonyoung’s favourite, check. A bottle of lube, half-empty, check.

Wonwoo fails to spot one particular item they’ll be needing if Soonyoung is to make good on his words about riding him. 

Now, there’s a rather funny story about the type of condom they use. Soonyoung’s always been more on the sensitive side when it comes to any beauty products, so Wonwoo has to buy hypoallergenic condoms especially for him.

In specific: this offensively exorbitant brand that costs him $8 for a box of 3. He could only get it in certain adult stores in Seoul before he got old (and brave) enough to make online purchases using his credit cards. That first year he spent fooling around with Soonyoung, Wonwoo was still sleeping with other people. It wasn’t until he ran out of his usual stash and had to dig into Soonyoung’s special stack, that he got asked an eye-opening question.

“Those aren’t cheap,” one of his frequent hook-ups at the time had commented. 

“Yeah, one of the guys I’m sleeping with develops a rash with practically anything else. I think he had to find out the hard way.” Wonwoo casually tore the packet open and rolled the condoms onto himself.

“So you buy this particular brand just to fuck him? How good is the sex?”

_Yeah, how_ good _is the sex?_ Wonwoo mulled the question over. 

Then he promptly realised, the answer was: not as good as seeing Soonyoung in his kitchen in the morning, wearing his striped pyjamas and burning the sausages meant for breakfast because Wonwoo had worn him out the previous night. Not as good as hearing Soonyoung’s laughter whenever Seokmin did his best impersonation of Voldemort-sunbaenim. And definitely not as good as the feeling of having Soonyoung’s face pressed into his neck, mouth forming a smile against Wonwoo’s skin as he drifted off into dreamland.

It’s sad to say that Jeon Wonwoo wasted his good, hard-earned money that night, because he ended up not putting the expensive polyethylene condom to good use.

Shaking his head, Wonwoo pulls himself out of the past and reminds Soonyoung gently, “You forgot the condom.” 

He doesn’t do it in an impatient or mean way, of course. He understands just how easy it is to develop a tunnel vision when they’re doing this. Not to mention that there’s a considerable gap between tonight and the last time they’ve had sex. Both of them had been preoccupied with work for what, close to three weeks now? It’s normal to get excited.

“Should I go get it?”

Wonwoo’s an adult. He’ll find enough strength on his legs to carry out this final duty. Might have to massage them for a bit before though, to get all the blood redistributed from his dick back to his extremities. 

“I didn’t forget,” is Soonyoung’s calm reply.

When he looks up at Wonwoo again, he’s holding up in the air his index and middle fingers that are already coated generously with lube. His dark eyes glitter in the dimmed lighting. There’s absolutely no mistaking his intentions. _I didn’t forget_. 

“Oh.”

“I want to feel you tonight,” Soonyoung says again, explaining himself in the case Wonwoo fails to understand him. Wonwoo feels a pleasurable shiver run down his spine. See? _Vixen._ “Can I?”

“Yeah, damn. Of course, baby.”

Soonyoung lifts up his hips to take off his pants with his dry hand. From his body language, Wonwoo knows that he can look all he wants, but not touch. Never touch, unless Soonyoung gives him the green light. So he watches, doesn’t even ask if Soonyoung needs help—he also knows to keep his mouth shut and enjoy the solo performance that’s meant for solely him.

As a creature of habit, Soonyoung starts fingering himself while looking straight at Wonwoo. One finger in, a knuckle deep at first, before he presses in further. 

Wonwoo can see it. All of it.

He can tell by the slight droop in Soonyoung’s eyes, from the way his jaw goes slack. Soonyoung adds another finger after a while, then he starts making these tiny moans which means it’s starting to feel good for him. They’ve safely navigated past the initial discomfort zone. He continues the ministrations on himself until he deems it enough. 

The wait feels like forever to Wonwoo. 

After his two fingers slide in and out of him without much resistance, Soonyoung doesn’t add a third finger.

Soonyoung never adds a third finger.

If it comes down to that, it’s always Wonwoo’s job. They both know this. After all, when you’ve exclusively had sex with the same person for more than thirty-six months, you both come to certain consensuses about the roles you take. They do switch it up a little sometimes, but both of them find no longer having to spell out what they like and what gets them going a part of the overall charm.

He takes his fingers out of himself and takes Wonwoo’s hand, wordlessly guiding it to his entrance. Soonyoung doesn’t push Wonwoo’s fingers in—he’s lazy like that—he just lets Wonwoo’s palm rest on the curve of his ass before he looks down at Wonwoo with a meaningful look. 

This is the cue that means: okay, touch now. Do whatever you want with me. I am yours and will always be. 

Wonwoo surges up and kisses him fervently. Kisses him like he’d die if he doesn’t, kisses him until all the air in his lungs is depleted, kisses him like kissing him is the purpose for which he had been born. Soonyoung slides his palms across Wonwoo’s nape and falls forward onto him, their bodies pressed flush, chest to chest. 

His boyfriend’s so lost in the feeling of Wonwoo’s tongue mapping the roof of his mouth, he barely feels the sting as Wonwoo gently prods at his opening with a thumb. He gasps into Wonwoo’s mouth, a sound the younger happily swallows, then subsequently relaxes under his touch. Wonwoo gets braver after this, index finger moving in for an attack, replacing his thumb, followed by his middle and ring fingers. His lover’s doing so well, barely squirming, walls clenching around Wonwoo as he too chases pleasure in the action. 

The practise he’s had through the years paid off as he finds Soonyoung’s pleasure spot without trouble. Wonwoo rubs the pad of his fingers over the familiar bundle of nerves, and the effect is instantaneous. Soonyoung’s back arches, low vibrations rip through his body beautifully. Wonwoo carefully brands each contraction of his abdominal muscles into his memory, storing the images under _things to never forget, ever_.

“I hate…” Wonwoo hears alarms ringing from that one word. _Hate?_ “That you know my body better than I do,” Soonyoung exhales heavily, but Wonwoo just feels his body getting lighter. Not a bad thing, not a bad thing at all. “It takes me time to… find my prostate. When I—” A pause. Soonyoung’s eyes are squeezed shut in concentration. “Play with myself.” He finishes with a struggle, resting his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder. 

Wonwoo just smiles against the curve of Soonyoung’s neck, tasting the salt on his skin.

“Okay,” Soonyoung tells him, “I’m ready.” He leans in to slot his mouth with Wonwoo’s own, tongue flicking out of his mouth to lick the seams of Wonwoo’s lips.

He keeps on kissing Wonwoo as he tugs Wonwoo’s boxer down, freeing his dick from its previous cage. His lips stay connected to Wonwoo’s mouth as he reaches a hand down—somehow already lubricated—and gives him a single firm stroke. Wonwoo feels dizzy, _intoxicated_. Drowning in everything that is Soonyoung. 

Soonyoung kisses the corner of his mouth, then the other corner, before focusing right on the middle. Bottom lip, upper lip, again and again and again until he’s fully seated on Wonwoo’s dick, taking it like a champion. 

Soonyoung stills. 

The kisses come to a halt.

Wonwoo doesn’t move—he won’t move before Soonyoung does or tells him to. He knows it takes a moment to get used to the sensation of having someone inside you. Soonyoung always gives him more than enough time to adjust, even when they’re supposedly doing it fast-paced; Wonwoo can surely allow him the same consideration.

A good minute passes by and Soonyoung is still trying to regulate his breath, so Wonwoo kisses the plane of his chest, bites lightly across his collarbone that he loves so much. Eventually, Soonyoung responds by dragging his nails up Wonwoo’s back before resting his hands on the column of his neck. 

“What happens if I…” Soonyoung trails off, but the tightening of his hold around Wonwoo’s throat is quite telling of his intention. “Do this?”

He still hasn’t moved. Wonwoo licks his lips. “Then you’ll be taking my breath away in more ways than one.”

“But you would let me?” he asks again. His breathing grows more shallow. The flush on his cheeks becomes more evident, too. 

Excitement is a definitely complimenting look on Kwon Soonyoung.

“With pleasure. I trust you.”

The grip loosens. “Another time.” 

He doesn’t say it, but Wonwoo understands: he means he needs to do some research to figure out how to do it properly. Something beautiful blossoms inside Wonwoo how much thought Soonyoung’s putting into this. Though he didn’t think it was a possibility, he finds himself falling a little bit deeper in love with him. There’s always a deeper trench than the one he’s currently resided in, apparently. 

“You can move now,” Soonyoung tells him. He peppers Wonwoo’s jawline with kisses, stopping beneath his ear to suck at the sensitive skin there. 

Any other night, Wonwoo would probably remind him gently not to leave any marks he won’t be able to hide when he goes to work. But tomorrow’s Christmas and he’s taken his leave of absence until New Years, so he doesn’t care. Even if they go grocery shopping, or more likely laundry run tomorrow morning—situations which involved him being in a public place where people can see Soonyoung’s imprints on him, he doesn’t care.

He’d welcome it, rather. The knowing looks, the whispers, all that jazz. Who cares? They are worth Soonyoung’s little smug grin he’d show while admiring his handwork.

So he starts moving, rolling his hips experimentally once. Soonyoung’s countering moan is louder than anything he’s let out previously and Wonwoo sincerely hopes the Airbnb next door is empty for the night. 

“I said you can move.”

Biting back a grin, Wonwoo bucks up into Soonyoung, planting himself deeper and deeper with each thrust. Soonyoung bounces on him like a kid riding a mechanical bull, which would have been funny if Wonwoo isn’t currently fully erect inside him. He meets Wonwoo’s upward movement with his own downward slams, a rhythm that is seemingly different than their established one, but just as delicious. 

“Good?” Wonwoo asks after a brief moment.

Okay, judge a guy for wanting to toot his own horn every once in a while. Whatever.

Soonyoung just nods, apparently not having enough in him to give him a simple yes, his thighs already shaking from exhaustion. Wonwoo slows down his pace for a moment, routine faltering, and he can see Soonyoung’s about to protest in three, two, one…

He encircles an arm around Soonyoung’s waist and carefully tilts his body back without pulling out of him, his free hand flying to a grab a pillow from their side for Soonyoung’s head. Soonyoung quickly realises what he’s doing and melts into the sweetest smile, with his hair sticking to his forehead and his skin glowing gold. He proceeds to make grabby hands at Wonwoo, which in turn cause him to smile and moves closer, covering Soonyoung’s body with his own.

Their lips meet in another kiss—this is easily Wonwoo’s favourite thing to do in the whole world,kissing Soonyoung—and Wonwoo starts moving again. The change of position makes it easier for him to angle his hips and alter the direction of his thrusts exactly where he wants them, which is directly at Soonyoung’s prostate.

“ _Fuck_ , Wonwoo, like that, yeah—” There might be a small scream somewhere in the middle of his series of exclamations, Wonwoo can’t really tell. He’s a bit preoccupied with other things at the moment. “You’re doing so good, please, _please_. I wanna come, I wanna—”

Since he’s also seeing the finish line right on the horizon, “Then come,” Wonwoo commands him.

But Soonyoung’s nothing if not stubborn. 

“No, together. I wanna come with you, please. Fuck, please, Wonu-yah.”

And one of Wonwoo’s purpose in life is to fulfil Soonyoung’s every need, his every wish, all of his desires. When Soonyoung says, _I wanna come with you_ , all the cells in his body immediately struggle to comply. Well, not exactly _struggle_ in this instance. Wonwoo does what Soonyoung tells him to, spilling hotly inside him, shuddering through his release as he tries not to immediately slump into Soonyoung. 

Soonyoung, who’s also shooting strings of white all over his stomach, some jumping up as far as his chest. He gets some on Wonwoo, too, successfully marking his territory in a traditional way. 

“Holy shit,” says Wonwoo when he finally regains enough functioning brain cells to form a sentence. Two words, but it still counts as a win. He buries his face on the pillow, next to Soonyoung’s head, and tries to lower his heart rate.

“When you pull out, I want the plug,” Soonyoung pants against Wonwoo’s outer earlobe. So much for lowering his heart rate. “You pervert,” he comments suddenly, lacking a prompt. Wonwoo realises he must’ve felt the honest reaction his dick gave to the request. 

“You’ll hate cleaning it up later,” Wonwoo tells him, caressing Soonyoung’s cheek.

“I’ll have help, right?” 

Of course he will.

“Then ’s okay. I want it. Like having you inside me.”

This time, when Soonyoung turns his face to the side to kiss him, Wonwoo silently wonders what he’d done in his previous life to deserve this. Saved a country, maybe. Or perhaps he was a saint. Must be one of the two.

🎄

Here’s one thing about Soonyoung and the years he spent training as a dancer: all that stretching he does makes him ridiculously flexible. Here’s another thing: all those hours spent in intense practice mode makes him develop ridiculous stamina, which then translates into him having ridiculously short _,_ borderline _non-existent_ refractory period. There are nights when Soonyoung would start to rut against Wonwoo’s side only a couple of minutes after he climaxes. Don’t get him wrong; Wonwoo doesn’t mind being overstimulated, not when Soonyoung’s always careful about it. In fact, he _loves_ it. The icing on the already very festive cake? Soonyoung always spoils him rotten afterwards, catering to his every request like Wonwoo’s personal butler.

So when Soonyoung’s breathing returns to normal and his boyfriend stares at him all wide-eyed, Wonwoo deciphers the code he’s sending him easily: Soonyoung’s ready for another round. 

“You want to come again?” Wonwoo taps at the base of the butt plug, jostling Soonyoung’s body a little.

In lieu of a coherent response, Soonyoung just twists around and lets a weird nasal sound comes out of him. “Nggh—”

“What was that?”

The reply he gets is a tad above exasperated. “I said, quit teasing, you _dick_.”

“That’s not very nice,” Wonwoo clucks his tongue in disapproval. 

“Oh sorry,” Soonyoung corrects himself in faux-sweet tone. “Quit teasing, please, you absolute monster of a dick.”

Wonwoo hums, considering. “Can you get on your knees for me?”

“Yes, yes, anything for you.” Soonyoung scrambles to get on his hands and knees, resting his forearms on the pillow. He tilts his head back to look at Wonwoo, impatient for him to carry on.

Wonwoo moves to get behind him, right at the edge where the sea of blankets end and the floor begins. He sits back on his heels and splays his fingers across Soonyoung’s ankles. “Good boy.”

He doesn’t miss the way the colour pink dusts Soonyoung’s cheeks at the praise. With his boyfriend flustered like this, one unsuspecting audience might suspect they haven’t done this much, which couldn’t be further away from the truth. 

Soonyoung wiggles his hips then, to get Wonwoo’s attention back to the more important matter at hand. Wonwoo breaks away from his eyes and moves his hand from Soonyoung’s ankles to his cheeks, spreading him apart. 

“Oh, fuck,” Wonwoo whispers as he takes the plug out of Soonyoung, his words laced with awe. He’s so close to the view, Soonyoung can probably feel the puff of his breath against his skin. “You’re leaking.” 

To be fair, that’s an accurate observation. Soonyoung really is _leaking_ in the literal definition of the word. Wonwoo’s come is dripping out of him, thick milky liquid trickling over the ring of muscle, then down his left thigh. It shouldn’t be this _hot_ , but it’s undeniable that he’s getting hard again just from looking at him.

“Then _do something about it_ ,” Soonyoung grunts in protest.

He does do something about it despite Soonyoung not asking him nicely. Something being: licking a wet stripe from Soonyoung’s balls up to his entrance, making Soonyoung drop his head between his shoulders. Then he licks up the pathway his release made on Soonyoung’s body, causing Soonyoung’s breath to quicken. His lover plants his right cheek against the pillow as he tries to keep his eyes on Wonwoo at all times. This makes Wonwoo feel incredibly good; this feeling of being watched, the knowledge that he’s never doing things alone. 

So Wonwoo traces his thumb over his perimeter, pushing gently inside once and causing more of him to come out of Soonyoung when he pulls his finger out. 

“Do you want to use the ring?”

Not quite an answer Wonwoo gets in return for his question; it resembles a whine much more. “Do I have to? You can’t make me come just with your tongue?”

This idiot and his stupid challenges that Wonwoo can never seem to back down from. He kisses him right at the base of his spine, causing Soonyoung’s body to curve beautifully, tightly. Wonwoo loves that despite the barbed words that come out of his equally beautiful mouth, Soonyoung’s body never once lied to him. 

The more he understands what each twitching of Soonyoung’s muscles means, the more confident he becomes in bed. More assured in his deeds, as knows that he’d easily be able to tell if Soonyoung doesn’t like what he’s doing.

“If I let you go without, will you promise to be good and hold out until I tell you to come?”

Soonyoung looks at him through his short yet endearing lashes and gives Wonwoo a shy nod.

He goes to work, then, hands gripping Soonyoung’s cheeks tight enough he’ll probably leave red marks when he takes them off later. Wonwoo spreads him open just enough to accommodate his face over Soonyoung’s hole. Like a warrior, Soonyoung fights to keep his ass up in the air for Wonwoo because he wants to be the good boy Wonwoo’s said he is. 

Wonwoo’s perfectly aware of how it gets harder and harder for him to do so. By each lick, each thrust of Wonwoo’s tongue inside him, Soonyoung’s resistance crumbles a little more. 

His boyfriend grows warmer everywhere. Not quite burning, but heated. Inside, outside, _everywhere_. The way Wonwoo’s name roll of his tongue, too, shifts from encouraging to urging. 

Wonwoo feels like giving up. He feels like flipping Soonyoung around and curling a hand on his dick, guiding the head inside his mouth until it sits heavy on his tongue, the width stretching his lips. He wants to suck him off, hard and fast—but Soonyoung won’t forgive him if Wonwoo stops eating him out halfway. He’ll get the cold shoulder for at least an hour, for sure, and it’s way too painful to handle right now or any other moment.

At this point, Soonyoung’s rocking back onto him, trying to get Wonwoo’s tongue in him as deep as he can. His breathing is laboured; tiny spasms ripples through his body decorating his harsh exhales.

“Wonu…” he calls for him, sounding so broken. “Not yet?”

Wonwoo reaches down to stroke himself, wonders why it feels so good to have Soonyoung this putty under his control. He pulls away from Soonyoung and spits onto his open palm to improve the glide of his hand up and down his shaft. 

Soonyoung notices the loss of contact and calls out to him again, this time successfully breaking Wonwoo’s resolve. “Wonwoo?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo rasps, then he dips one thumb into his slit, his other hand wraps around Soonyoung’s erection. “Come, Soonyoungie.”

Soonyoung comes, just like that, letting go of all the severe tension built up in his muscles. He drops onto the blankets, helpless, awkwardly pining Wonwoo’s hand underneath him. Wonwoo shields Soonyoung from suffocating his own dick, cupping a safety net underneath his still throbbing member. Both of his hands feel sticky and he’s managed to get a little bit of come on the floor—thank _God_ it’s not carpeted—but Wonwoo just grins happily, feeling somewhat proud, then rests his face on Soonyoung’s lower back as he waits for his lover to come down from his euphoria.

🎄

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we can spend all of our Christmas Eves like this?” asks Soonyoung after they’re done cleaning up. Warm blankets fresh from the dryer are laid out in place of the wet, soiled ones. 

Technically, Wonwoo cleaned for the most part, but it’s a price he’d gladly pay ten thousand times over.

Wonwoo had kissed every part of Soonyoung’s body his mouth could access and Soonyoung let him. He let him worship his strong thighs under the warm stream of water, reverently touching his calves before moving down to his ankle. He let Wonwoo lather his perfect skin with their tangerine-scented soap, not voicing a single protest over having to shower twice in one night.

“I love you.” 

Wonwoo had pressed his declaration on Soonyoung’s shoulder blade, right over the little mole there that he’s incredibly fond of. Soonyoung had hummed in response before he turned around carefully and kissed Wonwoo deeply.

_Wouldn’t it be nice if we can spend all of our Christmas Eves like this?_

The question surprises him because Soonyoung tends to get quiet after sex, having all that energy drained out of him. Still, without even having to think the question through, Wonwoo has an answer for Soonyoung. 

“It’ll be very nice, yes.” Wonwoo nuzzles Soonyoung’s cheek with his nose.

He thinks that’s the end of this particular conversation, until Soonyoung hesitantly prompts, “Would you…?”

“Would I, what?”

“I know I should have asked before I let you fuck me,” Soonyoung grumbles, hitting Wonwoo’s chest lightly. “Sex always lowers your brain function.”

The only thing Wonwoo can do is close his eyes and laugh, because Soonyoung’s right. He always is. 

“‘m sorry that your ass makes me go crazy, go stupid, babe.” He tangles his fingers in Soonyoung’s hair, frowning a little when he finds a damp strand he’s seemingly missed with the hairdryer.

In return for the gesture of affection, Soonyoung buries his face into the crook of Wonwoo’s neck. He takes a deep inhale of the scent of soap from Wonwoo’s skin before he asks again, a little clearer this time. “Would you spend all your future Christmas Eves with me?”

Wonwoo’s eyes fly open.

“Is—huh—are you—what the—fuck?” Wow. It’s only right for him to stutter seeing as Soonyoung’s caught him completely off-guard, but even for Wonwoo that was rather abysmal. “Was that a proposal?”

He scrambles to his elbows, shamelessly desperate to get a good look on Soonyoung’s expression to check for himself that he’s not playing. Soonyoung has his eyes closed, his eyebrows taut. Wonwoo waits for the _gotcha!_ moment that never comes.

Instead, it’s Soonyoung’s quiet, “No, it’s not. It’s a… question.” 

Dark irises appear from behind fluttering eyelids and when Wonwoo looks into Soonyoung’s orbs, he finds the things he thought only existed in fairytales. 

“The proposal will have to wait until we’re more financially stable. But just for kicks, what would your answer be?”

He notices how Soonyoung’s bottom lip trembles as he delivers the question. He’s nervous. God, that’s so _cute_. 

Wonwoo thinks back to the brown envelope he has hidden underneath his stack of sweater in the wardrobe. The one that has nothing written on it, so even if Soonyoung finds it he wouldn’t know what’s the money inside is for. 

Hint: it’s for a ring. 

He’s known that he wants to marry Soonyoung for half a year, now, and it started with the most ridiculous thing. The whole story is very befitting of their relationship. 

It went something like this: Wonwoo saw Soonyoung trying to hold back a sneeze, succeeding, then grinning triumphantly with his nose scrunched and his eyes crinkled at the corners, and thought to himself, _yes, I would like to marry this one, please._

He lies back down next to Soonyoung, throwing an arm across Soonyoung’s chest to reel him in.Soonyoung shifts in his embrace, hands immediately finding Wonwoo’s nape to caress the short hair at the base of his neck. Wonwoo’s leg slips in between Soonyoung’s, so now they’re entangled, making it impossible to tell where one man ends and the other begins. 

“You know the theory that multiverses exist?” asks Wonwoo, looking right into Soonyoung’s eyes. He traces the bridge of his nose with a wandering finger. 

“That there are other Wonwoos,” he points to himself, “and Soonyoungs,” he pokes the love of his life by the chest, “in dimensions parallel to ours, living their lives just as we do, but not quite. Celebrating their own Christmas Eve, in their own way, in a different world altogether.”

Soonyoung nods, though he looks quite unsure where Wonwoo’s leading them with this.

“I genuinely believe…” Wonwoo says with a contented sigh, “that in all of those universes, the different versions of us are together. When asked the same question you just asked me, the Wonwoos would kiss their Soonyoungs in response. They would cross their hearts and hope it conveys everything more than what they’re capable of putting into words.”

His eyes glistening, Soonyoung sniffs dramatically before he draws Wonwoo closer, resting his forehead on Wonwoo’s chin. Wonwoo tilts his head down to kiss him right at the centre of the faint line where his eyebrows would meet if Soonyoung hadn’t been a religious trimmer.

“Saying yes is less complicated than that essay just now, you know.”

Sounds like a protest, but definitely isn’t one. Not to Wonwoo’s ears, anyway.

“But it’s not as romantic,” he counters lightly. “And you love romantic. I know you’re going to text Jihoon tomorrow morning, bragging about how much I love you.”

Soonyoung doesn’t refute that. They both know there’s some ounce of truth behind Wonwoo’s words. It doesn’t faze Wonwoo when instead of acknowledging defeat, Soonyoung just points out another problem to distract him from the current one.

“The Wonwoo in this universe hasn’t kissed his Soonyoung properly.”

What’s a Jeon Wonwoo to do, faced by the such a request from a Kwon Soonyoung?

“The Wonwoo in this universe will quickly rectify that mistake.”

Soonyoung leans up to him and Wonwoo tucks a finger underneath his chin to guide his mouth to meet his own in a sweet exchange. His lover makes a happy noise and Wonwoo hears another accompanying it; a resounding _click_. His heart finds its home—the key slips into the lock, turns, and Wonwoo pushes the door opens to make his way in—he’s settled. 

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/bioominsummer)
> 
> happy christmas eve, everyone!


End file.
